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Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Dear World...

I quit my job.

The job that was going to pay me $32,000 a year, with benefits, vacation, sick and holiday time because I was unhappy. That's right, I took my own fucking advice and decided that I am not going to spend my life coming home crying nearly every day, feeling like I want to gut myself while at work and losing hair/sleep/sanity.

I am free from that fucking place.


That's right...


I am not going to sacrifice my own morals to sit around and not be able to do my job and help people like I'm supposed to. I'm not going to be snarked at for asking questions, I am not going to come home feeling sick because a person whose benefits termed isn't screaming at me "What are YOU going to do if my child dies?!" You know what I would do? I would give you your fucking benefits back, even if you lost them because of your own idiocy, I would GIVE THEM BACK TO HELP YOUR CHILD. Because they shouldn't be punished because you're a fucking moron. I am not going to sit at that desk and cringe every time that phone rings, waiting once again to feel horrible because I didn't offer a survey that doesn't mean anything to me or the participant I'm helping. You can take your survey and shove it up your tight, bitchy ass, and leave me alone because overall I make the people who call me happy. Unless it's those people...calling in sobbing to report a death or to say they can't afford their benefits, or whose benefits termed.

I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.

The job is going to be over very soon...


Not soon enough...

My heart hurts, just thinking about going to that place. Let me tell you, it's like my heart is breaking as I'm thinking about walking into that building again. I feel sick when I see names of our clients around the city, it makes me think of work and well...that makes me feel like I want to throw up. I can't stand it. I really can't stand the thought of that place, and I can't stop thinking about it, I dream about it. I can't ever escape it.

That's what I feel like anyway. Even when I leave it, I'll feel that way, and then I'll feel guilty because I'll feel like I let people down.

I hate being a disappointment...

But don't most people feel that way?

I feel better now. I'm not sure if it's the writing or if it's the music I'm listening to. Frou Frou is always awesome. Well..mostly always.

So, in better news. I'm officially engaged, it happened April first and I have a wonderfully beautiful ring. It's perfect really, I can't really imagine another ring on my finger, and it looks so good, it and fits me so well...and....and...

Music changed, now I'm feeling bummed again...fucking hell.

Depression sucks.

Is that what this is?

I want to type so much and so fast but I don't have a whole lot to say anymore that isn't complaining or pertaining to my other know, the one I just bitched about for a while.

I need to job search, I did a bit of that today mixed with cleaning the kitchen. It is now the only decent looking thing in this apartment.

Speaking of apartments I need to start looking for new ones soon because it's coming onto that time. I'd actually rather not move. I mean, that is such a hassle.

My knees hurt from sitting cross legged and the tips of my fingers feel a bit numb. I wonder...


Lost it.

I'm losing it.

Is that it?


I mean really, what was I thinking about?

Oh, yeah...


I think I just need to go to bed, tomorrow is my official last day of work that I really would rather skip but I'm not going to.

Take courage, and step forward bravely.

I'll try...

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